I just read an article about how to find a publishing agents. Then I thought about all of the published books in the world. Then I thought about the how select few get famous and how most books don’t even get published. Last week, I learned about intraspecific competition, in which resources limited resources caused regulation in species populations. This is on very practical terms. A matter of who gets food and water is a matter of life and death.
Sometimes when I look at the competition between people for dreams these days, I think of the phrase “battle to the death.” But I think they aren’t fighting for life per say, I believe it’s memory, communal memory. Which ones of us is going to be remembered as the greatest authors on our time? Which ones of us is going to be remembered as saving the most lives from so-and-so disease? Which ones of us are going to be remembered as the best chefs in our nation? And so goes the list. The capacity of the human brain, though relatively expansive, can only contain so many people, so the more people that they impress upon, the more likely they will be remembered.
I don’t think this is superficial, in fact I see it as a sincere desire. Perhaps there are very few, if not no one, that would be satisfied going through life not being remembered by a single soul.
Our precious memory, our precious resource, is both replenished and limited by the grand number of people that roam the earth. People are documented, but not all documents survive time let alone get in constant contact with human eyes. I wonder if anyone has tried going up to the mountains and spent their lives trying to remember everyone, and if they ever succeeded before passing away themselves. I suppose I would run up to those mountains, if I were fearless. But I’m not…
And yet we are young, so so so young. Every time I review the evolutionary timeline, I am astounded by how young we are. The earth is 4.5 billion years old, and we’ve occupied only 200,000 years of it. No matter who remembers who, we all will probably be only a note in the symphony of the universe. And yet we still try to remember, as if we could live forever. And I don’t want to pretend I’m not part of this dynamic system. I believe it’s what makes us shamefully, pridefully, and wonderfully the most human.
Morning Melon 